Blades and Guitars
by Zapwing
Summary: A rogue bot crash-lands. A spunky human goes AWOL. And they've got more in common than you realize... Set before Lucifer's Shadow. No OCs.
1. Chapter 1

**IMPORTANT NOTICE: This story is being set before Lucifer's shadow, and will be uploaded alongside the main fic.**

**Just thought I'd let ya know...**

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><p><strong>…<strong>

**Chapter 1**

**…**

Funny thing about crash landings: You always land the right side up, for some reason. Not that Darksteel was actually paying attention to this little detail. The slender mech groaned and cursed, as he booted his optical systems. A sharp dagger of pain shot through his helm, but it faded to a dull throb. Darksteel inspected the cockpit. The main screens were fine, but sparks that shout out of some of the other, minor controls told him that they were beyond repair. Plating had come loose from several points of the ship, exposing wires, which sparked and twitched.

Darksteel cursed, again, and ran a servo down his face. He'd barely managed to find this Primus-forsaken planet, while being chased, shot at, and harassed, and now he'd finally arrived, only for his ship to go kaput. Wonderful…Just wonderful. Shaking his helm, the young mech, stood up from his seat quickly. Too quickly.

A spasm of dizziness made him stagger, and flail his arms, as he regained his balance. He caught hold of the chair's armrest, as his gyroscopes adjusted. With a weary sigh, Darksteel regained his composure, and set off for the ship's hatch located at the rear.

He pushed open the metal bulkhead, allowing cool air to rush into the D-Class Personal Transport, and stepped outside. The terrain was…strange, to say the least. Yes, he'd been on rocky worlds before, but the plant life…

Darksteel looked up at the night sky. The planet's single moon shone bright in the sky, illuminating the large, grassy field he'd just crashed in, and Darksteel himself. He was a slender specimen, with a thin waist, and digitigrade, bird-like legs, with clawed pedes.

The mech turned to look at his ship. It was trashed: a twisted pile of metal beyond repair and incapable of flying, which meant he was absolutely and irrevocably stranded.

"Slag…," swore the mech, as he rubbed his aching helm. And then the ache cleared so suddenly, it made him gasp, and he found, to his astonishment, that he was accessing a communications network. A very extensive network. A global network.

It was called an 'internet'. And according to it, there was a small settlement nearby.

How fitting.

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><p>Ratchet sighed, for the umpteenth time.<p>

"Miko!" he called, as he looked around the main bay, an irritated expression on his face. The irate medic gritted his denta. He'd just left the bay to grab a component, trusting Miko to stay where she was, and not touch anything. Turns out, she could drop the ball on that as well. The medic growled, as he bent down on his knee joints, to peek through a human sized side door. Honestly, if that girl was playing tricks on him again…

The steady beat of small pedes made Ratchet turn away from the door, to appraise Arcee with a scowl. "Uhh…what are you doing?" was Arcee's awkward question. The femme stood, arms crossed, helm cocked to one side, with a quizzical expression on her faceplates. Ratchet let out a weary vent. "It's Miko," he said, "She's gone missing."

Arcee's expression turned to one of contempt. It was no secret that she disliked the Asian intensely. "What did she do now?" she asked, lip components pursed.

"I have no idea. Not yet, anyway," growled the medic. He stood, and headed to the main consoles. "I'll have to track her cellphone signal. Maybe then I can locate her," he said. His servos hit the switch, and the screen lit up. The Autobot logo was displayed for a second, and then faded away. The medic mumbled something derogatory, and was about to get to work, when a notification appeared on screen. "What the…?"

Arcee looked on, interested, as Ratchet expanded the file, revealing a text document. The medic leaned in to read. And he read. And his mouth parted open slightly, and his optics went wide, as a look of cold panic graced his faceplates. "Oh, no…," said the medic, his voice suddenly hoarse, almost a whisper. "Oh, no, no, no, no, no…"

"Ratchet, what is it?" asked Arcee, noting the medic's change in behavior. Ratchet did not respond. Instead, he rushed over to the Ground Bridge terminal, and fired up the screen. A long list of numbers flew down the display, as Ratchet cycled through the system, all the while muttering, "She couldn't have…She couldn't have…"

Ratchet settled on a particular section of the list, and his intakes hitched. "Oh, Primus, she did…" Arcee, looked on, surprised as something very much like guilt shot across the medic's faceplates. "Arcee, contact Optimus."

"What-?"

"NOW!"

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><p>Darksteel was fortunate it was night. The human settlement was somewhat small, and there were no organics about, which suited him fine, because he needed to look for a vehicle mode. According to the communications network he'd accidentally accessed, this so-called 'Internet', there was a car showroom nearby, that could provide him with what he needed.<p>

The mech peeked out from behind an alleyway. The street he was currently on was devoid of life. The shops were dark, and the wind blew a piece of newspaper across the tarmac. Just the way he liked it. Moving silently, Darksteel sidled out of the alley, and crossed the street, towards the large glass building. Bending down, the mech looked through the windows and found an impressive collection of automobiles. They stood in their designated spaces, their paintjobs glistening in the half light, all of them an astounding example of automotive engineering.

And Darksteel hated every single one of them.

The young mech snorted in disgust at the displayed models, and stood up. None of them suited him at all. Disappointed, Darksteel silently scampered away from the showroom, pedes making almost no sound on the tarmac. He would have to scan one of the vehicles parked around here, until he could find a better alt mode. Grumbling to himself, the mech quietly slunk into another alleyway, out of sight. He snuck from block to block, carefully. Once, he'd almost been caught in the headlights of a passing truck, but he'd laid low until it had passed.

And, as the truck drove off into the distance, he saw it. Darksteel's mouth dropped open. According to a website, the vehicle was a Corvette Stingray Concept. It was sleek, low down, with a retractable roof. It wasn't colored black; more like the darkest brown he'd ever seen. The windows were tinted a clear fiery reddish-orange, the rims were a metallic golden, and the chassis was decorated with a sexy teal flame deco. A sporty spoiler mounted on the back, completed the look.

Needless to say, Darksteel loved it instantly.

His optics flashed green, and an emerald beam flashed out.

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><p>"She'd scrambled the last known coordinates with a special program," said Ratchet, "I think Rafael was working on it last month.<p>

Optimus looked in Raf's direction, questioningly. The boy held his hands up. "Don't look at me; I didn't even know the program was missing!"

Optimus waved his servo in a calming gesture. "It was not your fault, Rafael," said Optimus, "Nor is it anyone else's. It was I who should have taken time to speak with Miko." He looked towards Ratchet. "Can you trace her cellphone, Ratchet?"

The medic sighed. For the first time in vorns, his faceplate wasn't its usual stoic determination anymore. He looked desperate. "I'm still trying, Optimus," he said, "But I am yet to come up with any results. The least I can say, is that she's somewhere in the United States."

"Take your time," said Optimus, gently. He appraised the rest of Team Prime. Bulkhead was the most agitated. He sat in one corner arms folded across his chest, muttering, probably admonishing himself. Bumblebee sat beside the Wrecker to keep him company, but even he looked worried. Rafael was trying to occupy himself with the game console, but wasn't very successful, and Jack's expression was unreadable. The Prime heard a muttered profanity, and found Arcee pacing the bay. The femme looked furious. "Arcee, calm yourself…"

The femme fixed Optimus with a scathing look. "Does it look like I can 'calm myself'?" she hissed, "I don't know what you think, but this is the last straw! I've had it with her!"

"Arcee, listen to me-"

"No, you listen to me!" snapped Arcee. Ratchet cringed. "Now, I know you think that Miko will come to her senses someday, Optimus, but I beg to differ! That fragging little glitch has been an annoyance since day one!"

BA-DOOM!

Bulkhead had slammed a fist down onto the floor so hard, that Bumblebee had actually leaped a few feet into the air. "Take that back," growled Bulkhead, as he glared at Arcee. The femme pursed her lips and turned away. With a growl, and a rumble of his engine, Bulkhead stood, crossed the bay, grabbed Arcee by the shoulder and whipped her around. Jack stood up from his seat, alarmed.

"TAKE THAT BACK!"

"MAYBE I WON'T," shouted Arcee, denta gritted.

"**Enough**," boomed Optimus, as he stepped forward, and peeled the two apart. "Arcee, Bulkhead, you will be confined to your quarters until further notice!"

Arcee drew back, and huffed, knowing not to argue with Optimus. Without a glance towards Jack, she briskly stalked off in the direction of her room, muttering obscenities under her breath. Bulkhead scowled, and threw off Optimus' arm, and he too left, in the other direction. Optimus sighed, wearily.

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><p>Darksteel tested his vehicle form, with the roof up, of course. The Corvette turned at an intersection, feeling out the wheels and axles. Everything was perfect, from the paintjob, to the rims, to the engine. He felt like giggling.<p>

Eventually, he stopped in front of a pawn shop, and set his processor to the task at hand. For one, he'd have to learn more about this planet and the natives. He had no energon, which meant he would have to pinch some, from somewhere. As far as Darksteel knew, there was a high level of Decepticon activity on this planet, so if he was going to nab some fuel, he'd have to be as discreet as possible. If only he could locate some…

Darksteel cut off his engine. It had been a long day. He just realized how tired he was, and how much of his frame ached and ached and _ached_. He might as well catch some recharge, before carrying out his next course of action. He settled on his axles, and sighed. "Nighty night," he mumbled, though there was no one around to hear him. It was the middle of the night after all…

It was only a few minutes later, when the rumble of an automobile jolted the mech out of his recharge. Darksteel noticed, with annoyance, a yellowish-amber vehicle pulling in near his resting place. A quick search through the internet confirmed the vehicle to be a 'taxi', a form of paid public transport. The yellow vehicle came to a stop, and a slender organic scrambled out of the vehicle. Darksteel's steering wheel cycled in interest, as he watched the 'human' turn to speak to the taxi driver. He was going to be on this planet for a while, so he might as well observe the natives. And they looked very interesting, these organics…

"…here you go. Keep the change," said the human, a female, by the sounds of it, and very young. Darksteel watched, as the little one strapped on a backpack, and turned to watch the taxi drive off into the distance. Then, the human walked into the light of the street lamp. If he had been in bipedal mode, Darksteel would have widened his optics in surprise.

He'd seen pictures of these humans during his brief access to the internet, and from what he'd learned, humankind liked to decorate themselves in an attempt to look impressive. But this specimen…

It… she…was thin, slender, and she wore the strangest assortment of garments Darksteel had clapped optics upon. And her hair…He'd never seen a patch of fur colored like _that_. It must be an artificial pigment of some kind…

The organic stopped dead in front of Darksteel and her honey colored eyes widened. "Woah," she breathed, a she drew nearer to the Corvette. Darksteel tensed, although it wasn't noticeable. Had he blown his cover? No, he couldn't have…But then why was the organic approaching? The little one sidled up to the sports car, and ran a finger across the finish. "Well, aren't you a sweet ride…," she said, softly, admiration evident in her voice. Darksteel relaxed. So that's why she'd approached him. And he's gone aquiver over nothing! He almost laughed to himself, but resisted.

The human suddenly dug around in her pockets, and Darksteel watched, intrigued, as the little one pulled out a neon pink rectangular device. She flipped it open, and backpedaled a little. Then she raised the tiny mechanism, and hit a button of some sort. A bright flash shot out of the thing, surprising Darksteel. It was a ridiculous question, but had she scanned him?

The little one smiled as she drew closer again. She'd stowed away the pink…whatever it was, and was running her fingers lightly over the Corvette's frame. "Damn, if I knew how, I'd totally carjack you," she purred, as she traced the edge of the flame deco. Darksteel did a quick search for the definition of 'carjack'. What he found made him frown. There were people who actually stole cars for profit? Now _that_ sounded interesting…

Filing away the information, he turned his attention back to the organic. She'd moved to the rear end of the vehicle, and was fingering the spoiler. She laughed quietly, as she stepped back. "Man, if only I could…"

She petered off, and Darksteel angled his rear views to get a look at the human. The little one suddenly had a look of terror on her face, and she stood stock still, eyes fixated onto a section of his spoiler. The section of the spoiler, which he remembered only too late, that displayed his faction logo.

"Oh my God," she breathed, voice shaking, "You're a _Decepticon_…"

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><p><strong>VERY IMPORTANT NOTE: Darksteel is canon. You can find out more about him on TFWiki, although it's not very extensive...<strong>

**Reviews and opinions are appreciated.**


	2. Chapter 2

**You know the drill, folks!**

**Read and Review! **

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><p><strong>...<strong>

**Chapter 2**

**…**

Darksteel was dumbfounded.

The girl backed away from the sleek convertible, her face having taken on an interesting pale color. She knew… She knew what he was…Oh, Primus…

Without stopping for breath, the human turned tail, and bolted. Darksteel shook himself out of his disbelief, and gunned his engine. With a squeal of tires, he whipped around, and gave chase, engine roaring. His headlights cut through the darkness, throwing light onto the child's back, her colored hair swinging from side to side spectacularly. The human looked over her shoulder, gave a small scream, and put on more speed. "Hey!" called Darksteel, "Hey, wait!"

But the girl gave no sign of having heard him, and kept on running. Cursing, the Corvette Stingray accelerated. "For Primus' sake, stop! I just want to talk!"

The child yelled something profane over her shoulder, but kept running regardless. Then, she took hold of something propped against a shop window, and before Darksteel knew it, she was zooming off on a two-wheeled contraption, her feet pedaling wildly. "What the Pit…," swore Darksteel, as he added more juice to the engine. Having no choice, he abandoned all principle, and exceeded the Corvette's speed threshold. The girl's back drew rapidly closer…

With a single deft movement, Darksteel threw open the driver's seat door. It flipped upwards like most sports cars do, and two overly long seat belts shot out of the vehicle. They snagged themselves around the girl's waist and arms, plucked her off the bike, and dragged her, kicking and screaming, into the Corvette. The two-wheeled… thingy… she was riding on, wobbled, before colliding with a hydrant.

The Corvette then drew to a screeching halt. Still squirming, the girl lashed out with her foot, slamming it onto the steering wheel.

"Hey, hey, stop that!" yelled Darksteel.

The human paid no heed, and resumed her kicking of the steering wheel. "Let me out!" she bellowed, as her feet slammed against the wheel. Even though he was cybertronian, and didn't really depend on said steering wheel, the girl's flailing still annoyed the Pit out of Darksteel.

"Seriously, _stop_ that!"

"I don't care!"

"You're making me mad, fleshy!"

"I don't care!"

"Oh for the love of…STOP!" He whipped out another seatbelt, and wrapped it around the girl's face. He withdrew with a yelp, when her teeth sunk down onto the strap, like a wild animal. "Sweet son of a…That hurt!"

"I don't care!"

"If you don't calm down, I swear to Primus, I'll knock you unconscious!"

"I don't care! I don't care! I DON'T CARE!" screeched the human, as she raised her foot again, and slammed it onto the steering wheel.

"THAT'S IT!" roared Darksteel. Losing his temper, he then sent a jolt of electricity through the seatbelt. The girl threw her had back, mouth open in a silent scream, her legs and arms suddenly stiff. And then she went limp in the leather seat, her head lolling. Darksteel winced. He hadn't meant to set the charge _that_ high…

A seatbelt snaked upwards, and poked the girl's shoulder with the buckle. She was unconscious…

There was a loud clatter from one of the buildings, and a light was turned on in an upstairs window. The mech hissed a profanity, turned off the headlights, and quietly drove down a side street, engine silenced. Once he'd reached a respectable distance, and he was sure no organics were pursuing him, Darksteel let out an exasperated sigh. First, he'd been stranded on this forsaken rock, with no hope of getting off, and then been forced to snatch up a mammal who somehow knew exactly what he was…Just _great_…

Wait a klik, hold the vox feed! How did she know who he was in the first place? Darksteel drove into a disused alleyway, and parked, the engine's vibrations slowing down. He accessed the internet, looking for any signs that the humans knew of cybertronian presence. From what he could glean from the network, the local civilization was completely unaware of cybertronian life forms. Aside from the brief mention of 'living technology' from some crackpot conspiracy website, humanity was largely in the dark when it came to Autobots and Decepticons.

But if that was true, then how in the name of energon, did this little human, a child no less, even know the word '_decepticon_'?

Darksteel mulled this over. If she knew that she was to avoid Decepticons, she must have learned of their 'mandate'. And if she'd learned of their mandate, then that must mean…Autobots! She'd spent time with Autobots!

Darksteel groaned. Another faction he wanted to avoid…

The mech turned his attention to the human, and considered his options. His first thought was to kill the mammal. That idea was rejected almost immediately. If she knew the Autobots, and if they found her dead, then he would be hunted down, which meant more hiding and skulking, something he didn't want to do.

Or maybe it was because she looked so small sitting in his driver's seat, body limp, and head to one side…

Darksteel snorted. Ridiculous…

His next thought was to leave her here, in the alleyway, hopefully to be found by a human, or even better, an Autobot.

Darksteel sighed with relief, as he opened his door. Carefully wrapping the seatbelts around the human's waist again, he gently pulled her out, and laid her on the ground. The seatbelts withdrew, and the door slid shut. He started the engine, and silenced it almost immediately, as he slowly drove out of the alleyway. He could just go away, go far, far away, and forget this ever happened…

And then he stopped.

But…but she'd 'scanned' him at that one time. Chances were that his vehicle form would be entered into their database, which meant he would end up hiding and skulking anyway. Darksteel angled his rearview mirror, until he could see the girl's limp form resting on the ground.

If he got rid of her, he'd be hunted down.

If he simply let her go, he'd be hunted down.

Darksteel wrestled with these options, and failed, as all his choices crumpled in a heap. Muttering a long stream of profanities, he reversed back into the alleyway, being careful not to damage the girl. He flipped open the door, extended his seatbelts, and gently lifted the girl into himself. This time, he seated her in the passenger seat. And then, almost as an afterthought, another set of seat belts whipped forward, carefully removed the backpack off the human's back, and set it down onto the car's floor. The seatbelts then snapped into place, securing the girl in her seat.

"You better thank me for this…," growled Darksteel, as he drove out of the alleyway.

Not wanting to do anything drastic while the human was unconscious, he decided his first stop would be his crash site. Who knows? He might be able to salvage something useful while he waited for her to wake up…

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><p>"Yes…Yes, I know…," said June Darby's voice, from the living room.<p>

Jack sighed through his nose, as he traced his finger on the kitchen table, his fingernails finding little notches and scratches. A bowl of macaroni and cheese lay beside him, stone cold and uneaten. He heard his mother say something else, and then conclude her conversation. He heard her sigh and the clatter of the cordless being returned to its receiver. The steady beat of footsteps. The kitchen door swung open.

"Jack…Honey?" said June Darby, her voice soft, brow knitted in concern. "Aren't you hungry?" Jack locked eyes with his mother, and shook his head slowly, as he looked away. June sighed softly, her arms crossed. "I just got off the phone with Miko's host parents…," she said.

"I know," said Jack, as he traced more patterns on the table. June hesitated, but then drew a chair, and sat across from her son. Silence, save for the ticking of a wall clock.

June took a breath, and her eyes flicked towards the mac and cheese. "Are you sure you don't want to…err…"

"No…," said Jack. He ceased tracing with his finger. June felt her throat tighten at the desolation in her son's voice. "Jack," she said, leaning forward, "It wasn't your fault…"

"Yes, it was," scowled Jack, his brow furrowed, as he glared at the table. "If I knew…I mean…" He shook his head. "If I'd known how she was being…God, I should have talked to her!"

June sighed and took hold of Jack's hand. "You can blame yourself all you want, Jack, but it isn't going to change anything…" Jack took a breath and nodded. "The best thing you can do right now," said June, "is just hope that everything turns out okay…They'll find her, Jack."

Jack clasped his mother's hand in return, and smiled a small smile. "I know…"

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><p>Arcee sat on her berth, silently fuming, the single wheel inset on her backstrut cycling furiously. Of course Bulkhead wouldn't see reason, of course Prime would entertain false hopes, and of course Ratchet would drop whatever he was doing and go off searching for her…<p>

She felt her plating heat up at every memory she could recall…How many times had she run through the Ground Bridge? How many times had she compromised them? How many times had she nearly gotten them killed for the sake of having fun?

And now, here she was, leading them on some 'wild goose chase' as Jack had called it…

She growled, engine joining in, a mechanical sound that reverberated throughout her quarters.

There was a knock at her door, and Arcee scowled. She debated ignoring the visitor, but relented. "Come in," she grunted, stiffly. The door swished open, revealing Bumblebee. Hesitating, as if wrestling with some sort of last minute decision, he then entered. The door swished shut, leaving only the two scouts, and a heavy silence. Arcee blinked; she'd expected Optimus.

Bumblebee's door wings fluttered, and he shifted his pedes nervously. Finally, he spoke. _/I came to check on you. / _Arcee didn't respond, but the wheel on her back slowed its spinning. Bumblebee sat next to Arcee, and twiddled his thumbs. _/ I know you feel mad…but you shouldn't make everyone else mad too… /_

"I can't help it, Bee," said Arcee, as she buried her faceplate in her servos, "I mean, of all the things she's done so far…" She trailed off, and shook her helm. She felt a weight on her shoulder, and looked up to find Bumblebee's servo on her shoulder.

_/ It's okay, I totally understand, /_ said Bumblebee. Arcee vented a sigh, and nodded, lip components pressed tightly together. _/You know, maybe you should get to know her better… /_

Arcee gave the scout a look. Bumblebee raised his servos in defense. _/Hey, I'm just saying! / _he said, _/I mean, she's not all _that_ bad, ya know… /_

The femme rolled her optics skeptically. "_Really?_"

_/Yeah, really…Seriously, 'Cee, give it a try… /_

"Do you really want me to?" asked Arcee, a brow ridge raised. But she found herself unable to refuse; the longer Bumblebee looked at her. "Alright, fine…"

Bumblebee chirped happily, and patted the femme on her shoulder. He rose from the berth, and the door slid open. _/ Oh, and Arcee? /_

The femme sighed. "Yes, Bee, what is it?"

_/Promise not to make Bulkhead mad again? /_

Arcee looked at the yellow scout, and locked her optics with his. "Yeah…I promise…"

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><p><strong>I've always had the impression that Arcee doesn't like Miko very much. Sure there was that one time in 'Metal Attraction', where she allowed Miko to tag along, but as for the rest of the series, she doesn't seem to develop a strong liking for Miko, and generally disapproves of her. <strong>

**Case in point: **"Oh, well if _Miko_ thinks it's a good idea..."

**I like to think Arcee let her mask slip, just a little, during that episode...**

**As for Darksteel's personality...Well, he only made an appearance as a Dark of The Moon deluxe class figure, and not much is known about this guy, so I'm taking a few (read: shitloads) of liberties with his characterization. **

**Let me know what you guys think.**

**-This is Zapwing, signing off.**


	3. Chapter 3

**That's right, people! **

**Read and Review!**

**Oh, and if any of you guys like Sierra, then don't read this chapter...Trust me...**

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><p><strong>...<strong>

**Chapter 3**

**…**

She became aware that she was lying down, her head resting on a soft, but lumpy surface. Her senses oriented themselves, and she felt the wet tickle of dewy grass on her arms and the light brush of wind on her face, and the warmth of the ground beneath her. Miko gave a small groan, as she slowly opened her eyes. She perceived the sky, a dark blue, streaked with reddish clouds; a sign of the onset of dawn. She blinked once, as she licked her dry lips, and then steadily sat up. A foul taste rose in her mouth, but she swallowed it down, and she surveyed her surroundings.

She was in a wide, green field that seemed to stretch out for miles, dipping and eddying, like the sea, and trees of all sizes poked out here and there. It was oddly calming.

Miko stood up shakily, and noticed that her backpack had been used as a pillow. She took a few awkward steps, and turned around, the better to observe her surroundings, and when she noticed the twisted wreck, her breath caught in her throat.

It was relatively small for a spacecraft; very reminiscent of Wheeljack's own fighter. This ship, however, was more utilitarian in design, lacking any distinguishing marks, or panels. It was basically an industrial transport of some kind, designed for one, and built for functionality, rather than form. It lay, at an awkward angle, in a deep furrow it had gouged for itself, pits and scratches crisscrossing its surface. A series of faded orange Cyberglyphics was stenciled near an engine pod.

A loud metallic clatter. A swear-word. Miko's pulse quickened in panic, but then she resolved herself, as her usual impulsive curiosity engulfed her, and slowly walked towards the rear of the craft, past the engines. There, at the aft section, was a hatch, which stood open, through which Miko could see stripped panels, wiring, and control screens that blinked on and off. Loose fittings and metal pieces littered the floor of the ship, and these were jostled aside by the pedes of the…

Miko's eyes shot wide open. There was a cybertronian inside the ship. He was a thin one; all jagged and sharp and lightly built, with digitigrade 'chicken legs' and 'wheelie-feet'. The pieces of his vehicle mode were visible by the light of the ship's glowing panels, and Miko could see the dark brown finish, the teal flame deco on his door wings, and the reddish-orange windows. His chest and torso were, surprisingly, a regal metallic-golden color, and it carried over to his forearms, rims, and to the lower shin and feet. Some of the teal color from the flame-deco even showed up on various parts of his calf and helm.

Miko, frozen to the spot, let out an involuntary squeak. The mech stopped whatever he was doing, and whipped his helm around to face the girl. Miko's heart froze, when the mech locked eyes with her, his crimson optics shining bright from the dark recesses of the ship. An uncomfortable silence followed, during which both bot and human stared at each other. Only the rustle of windblown grass was heard.

"You're online," said the mech slowly. His voice sounded youthful, with a bit of a growl. Like he'd just entered his twenties…

Miko stared back dumbly, her legs refusing to respond, possibly from abject terror. "Y-yeah…I'm awake." She finally regained control of her limbs, and took a hesitant step back. Almost instantly, the mech took a step (wheel?) forward, servo thrust out in a warning gesture.

"No! Don't run!"

Miko froze, more stunned, than scared. The mech's helm was suddenly thrown into sharp relief. His features were angular, yet smooth in places. The dark brown-and-teal armor around his helm, common among many cybertronians, was reminiscent of a snake's wide open jaws, and his faceplate was a deep, shiny black, with a small mouth. It almost looked feminine. But it was his optics that made Miko pause.

They were round, colored in the standard Decepticon red. But they weren't especially fierce; those optics, reminded her of Bumblebee's, or Ratchet's. And they were wide open, in an expression of panic, almost as if they were…they were pleading…begging…

Miko ran, anyway.

She bolted across the grassy field, her feet pumping, and breaths short. She ignored the fact that she'd left her backpack, the fact that he might be coming after her, and the fact that she almost felt bad for not listening to the 'Con…

The rumble of an engine, and a hissed profanity. Miko looked over her shoulder, and her eyes widened, when she saw the mech, in bipedal form running…no, skating, after her, wheelie-feet spinning, and throwing up blades of grass and dirt. Her heart thudding in her chest, she put on a burst of speed, only to feel large, but slender fingers wrap around her midsection. There was a swooping sensation in the pit of her stomach, as she felt her feet leave the ground, and soon she was raised to optic-level.

Miko snarled and twisted, like a rabid beast, her fists beating at the digits that held her securely. "You son of a…Let me go!"

"I can't!" snapped the mech, optics burning. He tightened his grip on the girl, slightly, to make his point, but she fought on, regardless.

"Bastard!" she yelled, "You can't do this! I swear, I'll…"

"Look, I know this is…"

But she wouldn't listen. Instead, she proceeded to spit a spectacular gobbet of slime from her mouth. Thankfully, it missed. But it still made the mech mad enough. "LISTEN TO ME!" he yelled. Miko froze, and her kicking ceased completely, as she looked up at the mech, her face bordering on fright. "I've been through a lot in the past few hours," snapped the mech, "I'm tired, I'm low on energon, and I'm holding my own lifeline in my hand!" He gave his servo a little shake, to emphasize his point, and jostling Miko in the process. "I figured you know the Autobots. I can't let you go," he said, "'Cause if I do, then I'm slagged over. And if I kill you, I'm slagged over." He paused and sighed dejectedly. "…Kinda been slagged over for a while, actually," he said softly.

Miko blinked. "You're not gonna kill me?"

The bot scowled at her. "No, I'm not going to kill you, mush you, stab you or step on you …happy now?"

He didn't want to kill her…Miko couldn't help herself. "I don't get it!" she blurted, "You're a 'Con. You should be all like _'I'm gonna rip you apart from the cock up'_, and shit like that…"

Another uncomfortable silence. The 'Con became still, and sighed. "Long story, fleshy…"

Miko blinked. This 'Con was getting weirder and weirder…In fact; he almost looked like he was…

"Are you gay?"

The mech froze, and looked at Miko with an odd expression. "I'm sorry, _what_?"

"You, know, as in, homosexual…"

The mech blink, in polite incomprehension, as he stared back at Miko. "I'm sorry, I don't get it…"

Miko sighed. "I meant, do you like to have sex with males?"

The 'Con raised a brow ridge, and then his optics dimmed; an Internet search was being performed. The mech's jaw dropped, as he found what he was looking for. "In-interface with…" He squeezed his optics shut, and reopened them; they'd gone back to their regular bright red. "What in the name of…" He snapped his optics towards Miko, who had seemed to have forgotten she was in his servo. "You are a sick, sick, child…"

"What, I'm just asking a question!"

"Well, for future reference, let me tell you: I don't roll like that!" The mech shook his head. "Me and a mech," he muttered, "Disgusting…"

Miko cocked her head at the odd mech, as he shook his helm, optics screwed shut. He obviously hadn't been here for very long, and he wasn't very familiar with the customs on this planet. In fact, it seemed he was-

Miko's face lighted up in comprehension. "I get it!" she said, grinning, "You're keeping me around, because you want help!" The bot opened his optics to stare at the girl once more.

"Say what?"

Miko's grin grew wider, and she jabbed a cheeky finger at the mech's face. "You're new here," she said, triumphantly, "and you can't adapt! You're keeping me with you, because you're a total noob!" She saw the mech do another Internet search, and when he was done, he looked back at her with renewed offense. The 'Con opened his mouth to retort, and then, suddenly, he paused. Miko could almost hear the gears grinding inside the mech's helm, his expression frozen. He then closed his mouth, and vented a sigh.

"Well," he said, grimly, "there's only so much I can learn from the Net." He fixed the girl with a new look, and Miko felt his fingers realign, as he adjusted his grip. "You have personal experience, and know how things work around here better," he muttered, "I guess there's no harm if I let you be my guide. But what about...what about your guardians?"

It was like a dagger had run through her gut, ice cold, and twisting away, ripping and tearing… but Miko shook her head, dispelling the sensation. "Don't worry about them," she said, trying to keep her voice from shaking, "I won't be seeing them…"

The 'Con tilted his helm to one side, his brow ridges raised as he gazed at Miko, suspiciously. "What? Are you sure?"

Miko waved her hand dismissively. "Yeah, I'm sure…"

The mech looked at her, brow ridges furrowed, but soon relented. "I'm going to set you down now…," he said, "Promise not to run away again?"

Miko held up her right hand. "Promise…" The mech loosened his grip, and slowly bent down. Miko felt her feet touch the ground, and she let go of the mech's fingers. The 'Con stood up, and wheeled back a few feet. The sun had fully risen, and its light shone on the mech's gold-painted chest spectacularly. The two stood, facing each other. Now that there wasn't so much arguing, it actually felt…odd…

"Well," said the mech, awkwardly, as he twiddled his digits, "I'd better go get my stuff in order…"

"Uh, yeah…," said Miko, rubbing the back of her head, "I've got to go get my backpack…"

"Right..."

"Uh...Right..."

* * *

><p>Jack tried to concentrate. He really did. But every time he attempted to focus, he just couldn't. Her note, her departure; it all flooded his mind, and the guilt tore at him, again, despite what his mother had told him. The teacher droned on and on, and Jack would normally be paying attention, but his mind just wouldn't orient itself. News of Miko's disappearance had spread fast (Jasper <em>was<em> a small town after all) and rumors were flying left and right.

She was on the run for something illegal…

She'd been abducted…

She'd run of with some guy…

Jack knew the truth, however. He just couldn't tell anyone…

Jack flicked his eyes to the seat on his right. She normally sat right there, in her usual bored stupor, her head lolling on her palm, eyes half lidded, as she daydreamed and fantasized about God-knew-what, or she skillfully grafittied the surface. It had been the same, before she'd gone…She hadn't shown any sign of wanting to do this…she'd been cheerful, perky, throwing profanities, and pervy jokes left and right, and every conceivable direction…

And now…

The bell rang. Jack shook himself out of his reverie, and shuffled his books and papers together. He hadn't wanted to come to school this day, but he'd done so anyway. He had no idea why. The first period, which had ended just now, had been excruciating. And he had to endure a few more hours of this…

He pursed his lips, as he made his way to his next class. He pushed open the door, and headed towards the usual seat, next to the usual window, tossed his books on the desk, and plopped down on the seat, with a sigh.

Yet again, he couldn't help, but throw a glance towards the seat on his right. No matter which desk Miko sat on, she always inflicted her personality on it. Crude drawings and Japanese kanji were scrawled across the desk, like some weird abstract painting no one had bothered to buy.

Jack screwed his eyes shut, and pursed his lips. It was going to be a long day…

"Hi, Jack," said a delicate voice. Jack's eyes snapped open, and he felt a jolt, when he saw, none other, than Sierra smiling at him, books held to her chest. And she was sitting at Miko's desk…

"Uhh…Hi, Sierra," said Jack, awkwardly. Dear God, what was he supposed to do? She'd never sat in the same row with him, let alone right next to him. The redhead flashed her perfect, white teeth, and was about to say something, when the teacher strode into the classroom.

The students went silent, and Jack, once again, did his best to pay attention.

He failed.

* * *

><p>Sierra Krosney bit her lip, and then turned back towards the board, annoyed. So much for roping him in…A pity, though, he was so good looking…<p>

But on the plus side, she'd have more of a chance of actually enjoying herself today. Because you see, Miko Nakadai was gone. And she hoped it would stay like that for a long time. A very long time indeed. The Asian secretly irritated Sierra, what with that constant screechy voice, the ridiculous hair, and that constant fixation on robots, of all things…Jesus, that bitch gave her a headache…

And then, there was the fact that she clung to Darby like a parasite. She and that little midget, Esquivel were glued to him…

Fat chance; it wasn't as if Miko had any desirable qualities, anyway…she was probably a closet lesbian, or something…

Her forest-green eyes shot downwards, and she noted, with pursed lips, the abhorrent chaos the Asian had created on the desk. Images...wait, they weren't images…more like some Neanderthal's cave paintings…yes, and that's what they were…

Nakadai had made a mess. Jagged, and spiky renditions of what could only be Japanese, crisscrossed the whole surface. Seriously, how the hell did she read that, anyway? Heh…maybe it was actual proof of how…damaged…Nakadai must be…

Her attention flicked over to several scribbles of mechanoids. Sierra crinkled her brow. They were exceedingly complicated, but so, so ridiculous… what kind of robot needs wheels on its back, and since when were there girl robots, anyhow?

_Bumblebee…Bulkhead…Arcee…Ratchet…Optimus Prime…_

Sierra scowled…Ridiculous names…Seriously, what kind of name was 'Arcee'? How do you even pronounce that?

Once again, she wondered where that little rat had gone off too. From the sounds of things, she'd probably gotten caught up in one of her fantasies, and was probably staggering around smewhere in the desert, delirious.

Sierra snorted, and then spread her books and sheets across the desk, so as to cover up the graffiti.

The less she saw, the better…

* * *

><p><strong>I know, by bashing a character, I'm not any better than the Miko-haters, but Sierra just makes me dislike her. People say that she cares about Jack Darby on some level, but I disagree. I think she's just playing around with Jack, toying with him, if you will.<strong>

**And let's not forget how she roped Jack into racing in 'Speed Metal'. I have a feeling she did that just to piss Vince off or something...**

**Oh, and by the way, Sierra's last name is the last name of her voice actor. I just couldn't help it; it fits her for some reason. **

**I also changed Darksteel's head design from the original toy's insectile appearance. This was done, because I felt that even Darksteel would need a 'Prime' redesign. His body, however, remains unchanged.**

**-Zapwing, signing off.**


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